


Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 81-90

by Severina



Category: Oz (1997)
Genre: Community: hardtime100
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-27
Updated: 2009-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-09 19:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/90648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 more drabbles written for the prompts at LJ's Hardtime100 Community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oz Hardtime100 Drabbles 81-90

**81.  
Title:** Proffer  
**Prompt:** 81 - And The Word of the Day is... (merriam-webster word of the day)  
**Timeline:** Season Five  
**Written:** August 25, 2009  
**Authors Note:** Vern Schillinger is a white supremacist, and his thoughts reflect this.  
**Word Count:** 100

Solitary confinement can be a lonely place, a desolate place. If you are weak.

I am not weak.

I am a man of faith, a man proud of my ideals. A man of strength and power, sure of my convictions. So instead of wallowing in self-pity, I use my time productively. I plan for the future.

I attended "counselling". I listened to Bitcher's whining and the nigger's pompous pronouncements. And then I proffered my hand in friendship to the fucking little prag, and he spit in my face and turned me in to the hacks.

For that, he must pay.

 

**82.  
Title:** Little White Lie  
**Prompt:** 82 - Phone Home  
**Timeline:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 25, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

When the lockdown ends, the men are lethargic, hesitant in the open spaces of the quad. Some edge tentatively toward the stairwell, eyeing Poet or one of Pancamo's boys.

Beecher heads to the phones.

Holly answers on the third ring -- "Beecher residence" -- trying so hard to sound grown up.

"Hi sweetheart. How are you?"

She squeals. "Hi Daddy! Snuffles died. And we're all out of pop-tarts. How are you?"

Beecher blinks. Snuffles is… who, again? Pop-tarts?

"Honey, I'm--" _recovering from a knife wound, living in fear, and spending nights in the embrace of my male lover?_ No. "I'm great, sweetie."

 

**83.  
Title:** Powerless  
**Prompt:** 83 - Sometimes a Fantasy  
**Timeline:** Season Two  
**Written:** August 25, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

_He's lost in the kiss when the hack bangs on the glass; still mostly lost when Chris smashes the jug of moonshine and the hacks rush in. It's only when they start dragging Chris away that Toby comes to life. He tackles the nearest CO, pummels him with his fists, screams himself hoarse… he just wants Chris back in his arms… he just wants Chris…_

The bottle of whiskey drops from his limp fingers when Toby curls up on the bed, clutching Chris's blanket around his shoulders, sick with need. He wants Chris. Wants.

"Soon," he croons to himself. "Soon."

 

**84.  
Title:** Close Call  
**Prompt:** 84 - Don't Fear The Reaper  
**Timeline:** Season Three  
**Written:** August 25, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Beecher wakens slowly, emerging from the haze of the meds like a deep-sea diver breaking through the waves. He blinks, once, and the world crashes back.

Dr. Nathan's face fills his field of vision. "Glad you could join us," she says.

"What--" he starts, and then spots Schillinger on the opposite bunk, and remembers. The gym. The fight. "Fuck," he mutters. "He's still alive?"

"Next time you won't be so lucky, prag," Schillinger snarls.

Beecher ignores him. "Keller?"

"He's fine," Dr. Nathan says. And Beecher sighs, relaxes down into the pillows, lets the pain meds take him again.

Keller's fine.

 

**85.  
Title:** Stolen Moment  
**Prompt:** 85 - And, and..? (continue a scene)  
**Timeline:** Season Five  
**Written:** August 26, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

He can't believe it's really Toby. So he breaks the kiss before he wants to, just so he can look into Toby's eyes, see the truth there.

He cocks a brow at the mail cart. "How did you pull this off?"

Toby drops his eyes then, and Chris knows -- whatever it was, it cost him.

"It doesn't matter," Toby says, finally. "I did it. It's done."

"Tobe--"

"Not now, Chris," Toby says. He rests his hand lightly on Chris's chest. "Please."

So Chris kisses him again, stills the words and steals as much as he can before time runs out.

 

**86.  
Title:** Line of Sight  
**Prompt:** 86 - Somebody's Watching You  
**Timeline:** Season Four  
**Written:** August 26, 2009  
**Authors Note:** I consider this a sort-of sequel to "PDA", in which Busmalis and Rebadow were watching Keller and Beecher in their pod.  
**Word Count:** 100

"They're staring again," Chris says.

Toby doesn't bother to turn from where he's caged by Chris's arms against the glass. Behind him, he can sense the ebb and flow of Em City's late afternoon -- the restless thump of many hearts eager for one last chat or hit or barbed word before they are sealed in their pods for the night.

"They're old," Toby says with a shrug. "They've got nothing but cards and the dress factory. They're… curious."

"They're jealous," Chris counters. He narrows his eyes. "Ya think Busmalis is a virgin?"

"No!"

"Yeah," Chris drawls. "I can always tell."

 

**87.  
Title:** Just You  
**Prompt:** 87 - It's The Holiday Season  
**Timeline:** Season Three  
**Written:** August 26, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

Toby pulls slowly away from the kiss; lets himself revel in the feel of Chris's arms around him. He raises his eyes to the ceiling. "No mistletoe."

"Don't need it."

"No champagne."

"This is better."

"What's your favourite Christmas memory? Any traditions, or…" Toby knows he's stalling -- to catch his breath, to regroup, to organize his thoughts. To let his brain catch up with his heart.

"This one," Chris says, "is my favourite. Fuck Santa. Just gimme lockdown on New Years Eve."

"Chris--"

"I mean it," Chris says. "Long as you're here, Tobe. 's all I need. Just you."

 

**88.  
Title:** Purgatory  
**Prompt:** 88 - Spirited Away (visiting spirit)  
**Timeline:** Season Five  
**Written:** August 26, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

_"They say the ghost of Shirley Bellinger haunts this cell." LoPresti grins. "When the moon is full, you can still smell her pussy."_

Shirley turns to Richie. "How rude!"

"And you're surprised? I can't believe you let him fuck you."

"Well… he brought me pretty things. A lovely lavender robe with delicate little flowers. You know how a lady likes to feel pretty."

Richie narrows his eyes. "Is that a fag joke?"

"Richie! You know me better than that. Besides, Officer LoPresti had a very big cock."

"Bigger than mine?"

"Of course not, darlin'. But at least his was _available_."

 

**89.  
Title:** Promises, Promises  
**Prompt:** 89 - Turning Over a New Leaf  
**Timeline:** Season Six  
**Written:** August 26, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

I've never been good. My whole life. I know it. I treated my wives bad, each and every one, 'cause I knew if they didn't take me back it just meant You thought I deserved to be rejected. To be punished. And I do.

I tried hardest with Bonnie. Tried to make her love me. But I ain't worth loving. I know that now.

Still. I need him, God. I can't handle the thought of him out there without me. Send him back, and I promise things will change. _I'll_ change. Just send Toby back to me. Send him to Oz.

 

**90.  
Title:** Healer  
**Prompt:** 90 - This Is Your Life (opening paragraph of memoir)  
**Timeframe:** Post Season Six  
**Written:** August 27, 2009  
**Word Count:** 100

When I was a little girl, growing up in a neighbourhood filled with rambunctious boys, the popular game was War. Plastic weapons were wielded with wild abandon; boys deemed "shot" threw themselves violently onto the ground and writhed dramatically until I, the "doctor", could reach them and fix them.

I always wanted to be a healer.

I never imagined that my path would take me from med school to maximum security prison -- to the murder of my husband, bureaucratic blunders, an experimental aging drug, and even love with the unlikeliest of candidates: the inmate who masterminded my husband's murder.


End file.
